True Nature
by JForward
Summary: UK Version. George and Nina are going on a minibreak; some time to themselves, and giving Mitchell a break with Annie. However, it seems someone is interested in Mitchell... in a bad way. Rated M for later violence. Daily updates if I get reviews.
1. CHAPTER ONE: George

_**Disclaimer: Being Human is property of BBC Three. This item is produced free of charge for non profit. Do not reproduce without express permission of the author in writing.**_

**CHAPTER ONE: George**

It was going to be completely brilliant, George was sure; he'd spent weeks getting everything perfect, sneaking off to the library when no one was able to tell in order to research and make everything just right. He'd checked the moon patterns, and now he had a week booked in a beautiful part of the Lake District. One week in a beautiful little cottage where they could relax, be together and just for once be completely human. He'd checked the time off work and checked that she could too. Perfect.

There was a wide smile as he walked into the dining room where they all sat, watching the television. It was about one in the afternoon and he'd just gotten back from the library, carrying the printed copies of information for her. His eyes were lit up behind his glasses as he looked between the three of them; Annie was cross legged on the tatty chair they'd put in the corner, looking at him with a curious expression as he came in. Mitchell and Nina were sat at the table, the vampire with a cigarette in one hand as his eyes flickered from the TV to his friend, feet up on the chair in front of him and back to the wall.

Then there was Nina. He moved towards her and she leant up toward him, kissing him gently, "Hey. Why're you so excited?" she asked him, his good mood infectious. He sat down in the chair next to her, putting the sheets of paper on the table in front of her. Annie moved over, pushing Mitchell's legs off the other chair as they all peered at the sheet in front of them. "I have booked us a holiday!" George sounded very proud as he looked between them all, the warmth of the pride radiating all through him. "Me and you, Nina. Just the two of us... the three of us." He gently placed his hand on her stomach. Annie made a tiny 'awwh' noise at that.

"What?" Nina read the sheets in front of her, resting her hands on top of George's. "Ohhh! You sweetheart." She picked it up to look at it properly, "Lake District? I've never been there!" she looked ever so happy, eyes sparkling and grin wide as she hugged George around the shoulders. He looked at Mitchell and Annie. "It's in two weeks..." they'd shifted just two days ago. "Two weeks today. Surprise." He laughed softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Mitchell shrugged. "Cool. Need a break from you soppy people." He joked, taking a mouthful of tea and looking back to the television.

Annie seemed to regain herself and went off immediately to make George a cup of tea, as he and Nina talked rapidly about everything there was to do, what to take, about work and everything being sorted out. When she was certain of everything, Nina wriggled past and George and headed upstairs, eager to pack. George was smiling as he drank his fresh cuppa, Annie going upstairs to help Nina with her packing, excited for them. Mitchell and George sat in silence for a few minutes as George looked at his vampire friend. His eyes were brooding today, his clothing just the drab brown vest top and usual black skinnies.

"Mitchell…" he asked, cautiously, getting a "Hmm?" in response. "You alright?" the werewolf frowned as his vampiric friend shrugged. "Don't you e worrying about me. You'll be fine. You'll have fun. I'm gonna catch a shower." He watched Mitchell head out of the room, feeling slightly unsettled, but the sensation was soon forgotten in the course of the day.


	2. CHAPTER TWO: Annie

**CHAPTER TWO: Annie**

Annie's first reaction was a good one to this news; she and Mitchell would get to spend some time alone at last, with no worries and no questions, talk, let things happen... go with the flow, as he was fond of saying. So that was it. The flow. She would go with it. Yup.

She sat with Nina on the bed as she dug through her boxes of clothes, most of them having not been unpacked yet, the summer stuff; nice, floaty dresses, bikinis and other such things. Although the weather had definitely been getting close to hot in Wales, they were not enough to warrant shorts and floaty dresses, so Nina was very pleased about going to the beautiful Lake District. She was acting so feminine it shocked Annie a little – but in a good way, as she was pleased to see Nina finally embracing her ovaries.

Of course, this happened every day for a week; Nina going out shopping and coming back with another necessity or return empty handed and complaining about not having a necessity. As such, Mitchell was making sure to not be in when there was no one else home, as he wanted to avoid the endless stream of lady talk about clothing he didn't care about. Of course, Annie rarely went out, and as such Nina and her spent most of their time gushing about it; but as much as she wanted to go with Nina, it wouldn't be good for her to look like a nutjob talking to thin air, so Annie had to stay at home and discuss the pros and cons of every item Nina had or bought, dissecting it and deciding its usefulness on a holiday to the Lake District.

A week passed in eager expectation, Annie making secret lists and plans for how she would spend the time with Mitchell. On the Friday, with the happy couple departing on Monday, the four of them were in watching the television in the late evening; Mitchell sat on the single chair, with Nina and George curled up together. Annie was in the kitchen, making them all a cup of tea, when she paused to glance out of the window and saw someone stood across the street, looking at her. Confused, she took a step to the left, and the eyes followed her. That meant several things, and she gripped the counter hard; that was either another ghost, a werewolf, or a vampire. Judging by the complete stillness with which he stood, and the very pale skin, she drew the conclusion as she drew the blind quickly.

Taking a deep breath, Annie considered her options; if that was a vampire, which it probably was, then that meant that it was probably here for Mitchell. If it wasn't, however, she didn't fancy sending Mitchell out to see him – the guy out there was unnerving. He was probably about Mitchell's height, she considered, with red hair tied in a tight ponytail. She couldn't tell his eye colour from here, but his clothing was green – a green polar neck shirt, long sleeved with a weave knit on the front of it, and his trousers seemed to be jogging bottoms in a deep navy. It looked... weird. Taking the cups of tea in to the room where the others sat, she handed them each a cuppa.

"There's someone outside." She sat on the edge of the seat that Mitchell sat in. "Looked like a vampire. You expecting, Mitchell?" she asked him, and he got to his feet, "Where?" he asked her sharply. Confused, Annie sunk into the seat he'd vacated. "Kitchen window. Red hair, about your height." She told him, "Do you know him?" he didn't respond, moving into the kitchen and tugging the blind up, staring into the empty street. "No, I don't." He murmured, the edge to his voice making his accent more pronounced. She felt a bounce of worry in her stomach, and twiddled her hands across each other, "Is there a problem?" he moved back into the lounge and sat at the table. "No. No, it's just being paranoid. No one there now, Annie. Must've moved on." He told her, but his eyes were distant, seemingly in thought.

She didn't push him. Worried as she was, he would tell if he wanted to; maybe when George and Nina weren't here. George glanced over then back to the TV, which was showing some old film. "I've seen this before." Mitchell muttered, leaning against the wall and pulling the newspaper off the table. "You were probably alive when it was made!" George said, and Nina grinned at Mitchell. He glanced at the TV again; "Yeah, probably." He said quietly. "Probably very alive back then." Shrugging, the Vampire threw the newspaper back on the table with just a glance at the title. Annie frowned at him, worrying. "I'm going to tidy the attic a bit more." They all watched him go

"Jeez, you'd think he was getting ready to move into it, the way he's been spending his time up there." Nina rolled her eyes. "I wonder what he's doing?" George made a face. "Better not to ask him that, I think." He muttered. Nina's face was confused, "Why not?" she asked, then it slowly dawned on her. "Oh, don't be gross!" Annie threw the newspaper at George, and it bounced harmlessly off his arm as he grinned, Nina wriggling her way off his lap, "I'm going to grab a shower then head off to bed." She stifled a yawn, "Work tomorrow then free free free for a week!" she laughed and Annie grinned along with her. George smiled gently at Nina then picked up the paper that had landed on the floor next to the sofa. The title read, "Box Tunnel 20 Suspects Named." He began to glance through it, skim reading the story. "They think they've caught the people who murdered all those people." He called across to Annie.

"I know. I read it." She responded, "It's just horrible. I thought _I _had problems!" she rolled her eyes slightly, but they were sad. "That station must just have so many ghosts in it." She whispered, then shook the thought off, but George looked at her with a mixture of pity and worry. She smiled at him, "Don't worry, George." He shrugged, reading the paper again. In thought about the train station, Annie turned her eyes back as the grainy black and white hero kissed the girl he'd saved, but she didn't smile on little bit.


	3. CHAPTER THREE: Nina

**CHAPTER THREE: Nina**

Excited didn't even begin to cover it. Everything was set up and ready; her case was in hand, her toiletries in place with it. The weather was bright and warm, no sign of rain for once, as if the heavens had decided to prepare her for the lovely weather of the Lake District. Nina practically buzzed with excitement as she stood with George, Mitchell and Annie at the train station, waiting for the train to whizz into place. She leant quietly against George's side, and all three of them were quiet, the platform almost empty. Mitchell wore his shades today, not really liking the bright sun, as vampires are wont to do. There came a crackly announcement and Nina practically jumped for joy, giving George a soft kiss as the train pulled in, and the doors hissed open. Annie pulled them both into a hug while Mitchell's expression was hard to tell with the shades masking his eyes. "Ohh, have a good time!" Annie cooed.

Nina laughed and looked around as Mitchell clapped George on the shoulder, and then they were on the train, sitting at a table and waving at their friends as the train sped up. They had a few trains to catch, a few hours to pass, and despite the stress of their journey she knew it would all be comfortable, happy. This week would be perfect, she was sure.

Snuggling into George's chest a few hours later, they were on the last train now; it whizzed toward a beautiful part of the country as he wrapped his arms around her form, his slightly woodsy smell filling her nostrils and causing her a contented smile. Everything around her was relaxed, calm, the swaying motion of the train allowing her to slip into a gentle sleep, hands resting on her stomach. Her breathing evened out and she was vaguely aware of George's doing the same as her mind began to spiral into the depths of a dream.

It was a nice feeling at first; she felt like she was enveloped in a warm blanket. Gradually the lights came up and she realised she had her back against a pile of freshly killed corpses, blood still running from some of them; as she staggered away from the pile, she realised that she was stood in a desert, framed by high walls, and the sun burning massive in the distance. Much to big to be at home; she was in a place bleak and cold but burning hot at the same time and as she looked around, the sun scorching on her back, she realised that she was in a bowl. Trapped. Then she noticed something stuck into one of the corpses with a nail. It was a calendar, but all it said was Monday. Everything else seemed frozen.

The next moment she felt a shift in the dream. The bodies seemed to be getting younger, healing, decaying less. She knew the calendar read Tuesday, but her eyes were fixed on the shape approaching. The dream seemed to pick up speed, potency, the days moving quicker, and now it was Thursday and the shape was almost visible, wearing all black leather, the hair white blonde… another day. She could almost make out the face now, registering the pallor of the skin, the shaky rolling was it moved; Saturday. She could see him now – black eyes. Teeth extended. His hair seemed to be darkening in the sun as he got closer to her and suddenly she was terrified, she wanted to run from this starving vampire, but the bodies at her back restricted her. She felt her breathing accelerate as the low snarling sounds reached her. In just a day, she could feel the time slipping away already –

"Nina? Wake up, honey, it's time to go. We've got a taxi then we're there." His eager smiled broke into her sight and she grabbed him, kissing him, thankful that he was there. George smiled, not understanding why but happy to receive it. Carrying both their bags he moved off the train with her, but through the entire journey to the beautiful little chalet, in the light of the setting sun, all Nina could think about was that horrible face, the vampire drawn to attack … even with the blonde and the clothes, as he had approached, she was sure the face of that vampire belonged to Mitchell…

Nina shivered and huddled closer to George.


	4. CHAPTER FOUR: Mitchell

**CHAPTER FOUR: Mitchell**

Mitchell and Annie had to take the bus back to the shared home, which Mitchell complained about pretty much constantly, wishing for his car back, talking about buying a new one with steadily increasing desperation. He refused to allow himself to indulge in the true reason for his hatred of public transport, the reason why he walked more and more often, the reason his whole body was fighting off tremors right now. Annie's hand rested on his left leg, his own hand over hers, and he was ever so thankful of the lack of people on the bus. He tried to battle against his senses, turn them away from what they were striving to hear, the pulsing, thudding, whispering breathing and life of the few food sources on the bus – no! He would not indulge, these were people, humans, innocent. He would not take their lives.

He put his head in his hands, and Annie moved her hand onto his shoulder, frowning gently at him. "Mitchell?" she murmured. "Next stop." His voice was only just audible but he knew she registered it as he trebled again, feeling a bitter metallic taste in the back of his throat. He had to get a grip… "But we've got another three stops before-" his voice, as soft as it was right now, was sharp enough to cut her off, "Next stop, Annie." She didn't respond to him and he felt her move her cold hands off of his skin.

Mitchell stood silently as the bus slid to a gentle stop, moving off as quickly as he could, ignoring the glances from the people as he passed them. His throat burned and he saw Annie's worried face as she walked next to him down the empty streets. "Just needed some fresh air." The intensity of his accent gave away the tremor of his voice, the insecurity. "Mitchell…" Annie caught his hand with hers, forcing him to turn around and look at her, look into her eyes; his own were intense at the moment. The soft brown filled with pain and fear – he couldn't hide that from her, the raw emotion, and she pulled him into a tight hug. His whole body tensed as he inhaled; she didn't smell like living creatures did, though.

Her scent wasn't there in place, solid, like it was for most creatures. Her scent was faint, changing with her – the stronger she felt, the more human she felt, the more powerful her smell would be. It was a light brush of perfume in the air, like sunflowers, mixed with the vague smell of humanity. It was nice not to worry about the smell of blood, the thing that tortured him most. With a sigh, Mitchell pulled away, shaking his head. "Annie…" he murmured, stroking a hand down her cheek, "I'm sorry, but I'm not good company right now. The others forget … they don't understand. This is … difficult. I'm fighting against what I am." He leant his back to the wall, watching her face as she looked away from him, and he swallowed. "Really have to buy a car." He tried to make his voice lighter, more jokey, but she just gave him an almost pitying look, taking his hand again.

The cold skin tingled and without a word, they turned towards home and began to walk again. Every scent on the bus still burnt in his throat, every thought he'd had even for a second filled him with shame, and he knew Annie could feel the tension in him, the struggle. He knew she remembered how he'd acted before, so crazed… so lost on blood. He wondered if she had ever worked out what was wrong with him. Because he knew…

He'd been so close to the edge like this before..

And he knew what it ended with.

**Author Note: Hi guys! I've been uploading a chapter a day of this but without reviews I'm having trouble getting motivated. I don't if it's because people don't read the English ones or what, but really… reviews, please! Anything…**


	5. CHAPTER FIVE: Annie

**CHAPTER FIVE: Annie**

To say Annie was concerned was a little bit of an understatement. Mitchell had barely spoken a word as they went home, his hand soon slipping out of hers and back into his pockets, and she was just drifting along beside him listlessly. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, barely waiting for her before he pushed it shut. Everything seemed to be done with an extra aggression; she watched him as he tugged his coat off and then sat down in one of the sofas, not even turning the television on. She watched him, nervously, as he rubbed his eyes. "Mitchell? Do you want a cup of tea..?" Annie asked softly, and he just nodded, not speaking to her, shutting his eyes. She moved into the kitchen and began to prepare, sneaking glances at him.

She hated to remember how he had been before they went to that horrible centre; the things he'd said to her, things she'd enjoy now, but the way he said them … they made her shiver. His eyes. She'd seen them go full black before, but the way they had just blackened in the normal part, the way- she forced the thoughts away. He'd been killing. Must've been. She didn't want to face that sickening truth as she looked in at him, sitting on the sofa, head in his hands now. How close was he to becoming crazy like that again? A hard twist of fear formed in her stomach as she took the hot mug in, handing it to him, and he offered her a faint smile and a noise of thanks as she slipped down onto the opposite seat.

His eyes shut and she wondered what he was thinking of, contented to just sit there and watch him, but after a while he sat up and looked at her, slamming the still full mug down, "Annie, for gods sake! Will you please stop STARING at me!" she jumped violently, then turned away, mumbling an okay and going upstairs at that. She felt hurt by his anger, wondering if it was her who was causing him this trouble. She sat down on the top of the stairs, listening to him moving about, wondering what he was doing down there. Then the door clicked open and slammed shut behind him; shocked, she headed back down, looking around. Sure enough, the vampire was gone, as were his keys and coat. Frowning, she went to sit in the lounge, worrying…

A few hours passed and she heard a car stop outside, an unfamiliar noise, so she disregarded it until keys clicked in the lock a minute later. Mitchell strode in and she looked up at him, wide eyed, seeing his expression change to confused. "I thought…" she murmured, then spoke clearer as she saw a shot of shame in his eyes, "Where did you go, Mitchell? I was _worried_!" she demanded, and he grinned, which just made her all the more angry. His voice was almost condescending, "Annie, come here." Irritated at being ordered about like a dog, he got up and walked to him, as he opened the door. Outside was a little Peugeot 306, in a dark green colour, and he seemed proud. "Told you I was going to get a car."

Annie was dumbstruck. That was not what she expected at all. She turned and gave Mitchell a tight hug and, confused, he wrapped his arms tightly around her. "What did you think I would do, Annie?" his voice was soft and she pulled away, looking up into his face. "Nothing." She responded quickly and he frowned, watching her head into the kitchen. But as she had turned she had seen something. A flash of ginger hair. The vampire from before was now watching from across the street; as she walked back though, she heard Mitchell shout "Hey!" in alarm and anger, and before she could turn back completely he was belting it across the street after the figure.

**Authors Note: I know I know. Don't worry, we'll get to the action soon.**


	6. CHAPTER SIX: Mitchell

**CHAPTER SIX: Mitchell**

He hadn't left to buy a car. He'd gone out with no intention except to get away from the house, away from the stress of that household, away from... away from Annie, he hated to admit. Still, he had gone; and he had walked the streets for a while, wearing his shades so the light didn't sting his eyes, head down as he tried to clear his lungs and his mind. It helped, for a while; but every time another human would walk by, another scent would catch him and he'd have to control his primal mind, contain it. Like the shark once it had scented blood, and he was trying to feed it cabbages... he shook that thought off. _'Don't be so melodramatic.' _He chastised himself mentally, turning down another street.

Then he found himself in front of a used car lot, and it became obvious. He'd occupied an hour this way; browsing the cars, considering how much money he had, the urgency... but after a while, the salesman began to get too pushy. Too touchy feely, trying to seem nice and encouraging, but Mitchell could smell under the grease and hand cream and nylon fabric – all he could smell was blood, all he could hear was the pulsing vein, and so he cracked. "I'll take the Peugeot." He remembered the salesman looking confused by the crack in his voice but not questioning, turning to lead the way inside to purchase. Then as he drove away Mitchell had felt the crippling shame again, forcing him to pull over and lean his head on the wheel, breathing hard.

The primal part of him loved the planning. The testing the human, leading them away, seducing them or scaring them, whatever was better... all was that salty-sweet taste. He straightened up, trying to take a calming breath. The inside of the car suffocated his senses, but that was good; oils on all the surfaces, leathers, the air-freshener the salesman had given him with the car lot's name on it. It crushed in on his smell, and he couldn't smell human in it anymore, so he could begin to relax. He missed his old car – he expected it was still where they had left it when they had run... he didn't want to think about that again. Lucy... he groaned, hitting his head with the gloved palm of his hand. Focus. Focus, damnit! He managed to get the car home, and get in, forgetting Annie was there. So he forced himself to put on a happy face, he didn't want her to feel the turmoil he was going through – and she didn't.

That was when he spotted him. It was the vampire Annie had mentioned before, watching him from the other side of the street. He knew this vampire – he should've realised from her description! Shouting, he belted it out the door, leaving the stunned ghost behind, running toward the threat – who took off promptly. He was quick, Mitchell knew that, he'd had to pursue the ginger vampire before, but that was on very different terms. Yet now it seemed he ran slower, never quite out of eyesight, until they were both almost down by the pier and he finally slipped out of sight. Mitchell panted, forced to bend over a little, looking around to see where he had gone. There were people about now, as it was mid afternoon, so he couldn't call out.

Then he saw him again; he was stood, leaning nonchalantly against an iron railing, arms and knees folded. Mitchell sauntered over, leaning next to him. "Why're you here, Peter?" he asked him lowly, digging his nails into the railing, so that he would control himself. He hated the slimeball vampire; and he knew who he was. A servant to the elders, a quick talking, weak vampire, who'd been good for nothing in his first life and excelled as a first class brown nose in this one. "I have a message for you, Mitchell." He crooned softly, glancing sideways at the Irish vampire. Mitchell had to resist the urge to rip his throat out right here and now, as he met the brown eyes without fear. Peter wasn't afraid of him, or admiring; Mitchell was just another errant he could bring back to rein. "I've already given the elders my answer, Peter." Mitchell hissed out, and looked away, grinding his teeth at the soft laughter that responded.

"That's the wrong answer, Mitchell. We need to keep you under control. If you don't start being careful, accepting your nature again, you know you'll lose control like that... that's what the elders don't like. You're an _extremist, _Mitchell. Hero turned wuss." He rolled his lips back in distaste and Mitchell removed his hands from the iron, facing Peter. "Leave me alone." He snarled as softly as he could manage, furious, "You and the elders. I'm not going to change what I'm doing. I'm doing the right thing here..." Peter's mocking expression made Mitchell more furious, and he turned away, "We're done now." Mitchell began to stride away from him as he heard Peter call after him; "I will fulfil my duty, Mitchell!" his voice light and singsong.

He walked back to the house, twitching with fury as he slammed the door shut behind him; Annie came straight up to him and he took in her worried expression, smiling at her and giving her a slight hug, "Don't worry, Annie." He looked at her, and she stepped back slowly, as he slid his jacket off. He only took it off out of habit; he was pretty much always cold. It was a vampire thing. "His name is Peter. I know him from a long time back. He's not a friend." He sat down in a seat, seeing Annie had put his cold mug away a long time back, he felt a little ashamed. "Hey. Um. Cup of tea?" he asked her and she was quick to oblige, forcing a smile onto her face, but he still felt the shame there, like a hard tight ball in his stomach. Peter being here was bad news. It seemed like he might have to get his stake out again, and the thought almost made him flinch. Monsters destroying monsters. Almost poetic, really.

**Authors Note: Thanks for the reviews! I love clear-cut reviews that give me constructive criticism alongside tell me I'm awesome XD If there's anything to change or you think I'm writing a character wrong, please tell me! I need to know how to improve **


	7. CHAPTER SEVEN: George

**CHAPTER SEVEN: George**

It was beautiful here. The day dawned bright and he stretched out in the luxurious bed, wrapping an arm around Nina, who was still deeply asleep. Sliding out of the bed into the beautiful light – they hadn't shut the curtains last night – he moved over to the window and leant on the warm sill, enjoying the sight of the greenery around the hotel. As quietly as possible he slipped into the shower, enjoying the steaming heat and not being all that surprised when Nina appeared, looking ruffled but happy, joining him in the spray. Once clean, George pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, a smile on his face as he took Nina's hand and they headed down to enjoy the breakfast buffet the hotel supplied with their booking.

It was so idyllic here; just what they needed. Proud at his good choice, George munched on a full English breakfast, looking at Nina with her bowl of fruit salad and yoghurt, then slid a hand over to rest it on her spare one. She smiled back at him and he was reminded of how very much he loved her now. "Nina..." he said softly, and she responded with a soft 'mm?' noise, "I do love you very much, you know that?" a little flash of his shyer self peeked through and a smile spread over Nina's face, making her more beautiful than ever, George thought to himself as she leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss. He smiled and stroked the back of her hand, spearing a roasted mushroom. She giggled at him quietly, and he felt contented in the knowledge that she moved him back.

The whole day passed in a happy, comfortable way; the place was quiet where they stayed, and they went on a nature walk, enjoying the sites and the sounds and the smells more than the others with their enhanced senses. They went into the little village and had a lunch of freshly baked bread rolls. Everything was lovely and perfect. George only noticed that there was a strange looking person following them when it was evening and they were heading back for dinner at the hotel. As he tried to take in and place the girl's appearance without slowing down, he recognised the strange skin pallor from somewhere else; Mitchell. Herrick. This was a vampire following them. George fought to squash his rather logical angry reaction. It wasn't fair – he just wanted time off, human time, to spend with the woman he loved. Why did they have to ruin it, every time!

Then George reconsidered. The vampire hadn't bothered them yet – and if it wasn't going to, why should he be bothered? There was no threat. He'd be a bit of a hypocrite himself if he didn't stand by a vampire being allowed to go on holiday too. Nina would be ashamed of that. So he tried to place the vampire, and Nina was questioning him about why he was so quiet at dinner that night. He just smiled calmly and told her he was enjoying the calm. The vampire looked so very normal, though. She was in her fourties or so, with her black hair pulled back into a bun and very blue eyes. Clearly a lot prettier when she was younger, she was wearing a blouse and a pencil skirt with black tights and stubby one inch heels, walking around with an air of confidence. He had to question if it was chance that she was around, or if she was really truly following them.

Bed time swung around, finding the two werewolves curled up happily and quickly drifting off into a deep sleep, exhausted from the travels of the day. Everything was calm in the room, but George had been worrying again about the vampire who had been following them during the day. As he slipped through the layers of sleep, the fuzzy comforting images of the day began to be replaced by the harder, grainy edge of a nightmare, everything sharpening into clear focus. The smell hit him first, as the image metamorphosed around him – the stink of the dogfighting cages, and the reek of blood. But the cage wasn't in here now – he realized he was in the pool, now filled with thick, sticky blood that tried to drag his limbs down. He swam for the side of the pool, trying to avoid the blood, feeling it pulling on his limbs, and as he struggled he swallowed some of it. Suddenly strong, he pulled himself out the other end, none of the liquid appearing to stick to him.

Straightening, he looked at himself and realized what he was wearing, unsullied by the blood moving like water in front of him. He was slimmed that normal, and his hands were wearing dark green fingerless gloves. With a shock, George realized why the blood had tasted so sweet, and he felt sick. He was Mitchell now. Horrified by the thought he turned in a circle but the only way out was a door at the other end of the room, and he was trapped on a narrow ledge. The smell of the blood was hurting him and he was surprised by how syrupy it smelt. Then the door clicked open and the George-Mitchell realized he was staring at… himself. George stood on the other bank, holding a stake with silver handle, the same one Jaggat had used, and he felt terror through him. "Mitchell-" his own voice, high and scared, reached him, "What have you done? I have to do this now. For Nina." As he heard his own words he knew he'd do this if he had to. Then George began to approach him, walking across and invisible bridge, untouched by the blood, and drove the stake into him.

George awoke in a cold sweat and moved to the window, staring out into the night with a shiver. Looking back at Nina, he murmured some very true words – "I hope that's not a premonition."

**Authors Note: I apologize for the late chapters that will be coming up. I'm a little caught up in college work (Performing in A Midsummer Nights Dream) so I'm getting less time to focus on writing for my favourite sexy vampire and his friends.**


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT: Mitchell

**CHAPTER EIGHT: Mitchell**

Mitchell hadn't dreamt that night. He'd barely slept, in fact; most of the night he had laid still in his bed, looking at the ceiling, considering what he had to do now. Ironically enough, the day had gone by peacefully. He hadn't had to go out; he'd sat inside, watching the television with Annie, quietly amused by the joy she seemed to show at him being there. When night had swung around again, he had managed to sleep nightmare-free, unlike George. Waking at around eleven, he slipped out of his room and had a quick shower, before getting dressed and heading down to see Annie sitting on the table silently. He blinked in confusion and moved over to her.

She gave him a faint smile but he could tell her eyes were distressed. "What's wrong?" he murmured gently, and she laughed a little. "We're out of milk." He felt a grin flourish across his face as he pulled her off the table and into a proper hug, "Y'are silly, sometimes." He told her, feeling her shake gently with another little laugh, which he could tell meant she agreed with him. He stepped back from her; "I'll go to the shop, shall I?" and she nodded. Pausing, he tilted her head up with his gloved hand, and kissed her ever so softly on the lips. "I'll see you in a bit." He picked his car keys up then changed his mind, grabbing just the house key instead. It wasn't a long walk. So he locked the door behind him with a soft click and headed off down the street, hands in his pockets.

He'd forgotten his shades though and winced as the bright lights caused his eyes to sting slightly, giving everything a slightly bleached look, but he'd found that the longer he went without feeding, the easier it became to cope with things like the sunlight and the cold. He shook off comparisons of how it had been before the massacre; he didn't need that now, as he strode down the street with his jacket done up, gloved hands still tucked away until he finally reached the little corner shop. Mitchell managed the avoid much conversation with the little Indian shop owner, buying his pint of milk then walking away, back up the road. Then a smell caught him, when he was almost back, causing him to freeze and looked around. The scent was flooding from an alleyway and caused him to swallow convulsively.

His feet seemed to direct him of their own accord, and he picked up the sight of a girl. She couldn't've been more than sixteen, with deep brown hair, a little pudgy, with wide blue eyes and wearing a bright pink tracksuit. She was gasping in air and fighting on the floor, not able to get enough energy to scream as blood ran in thick, glossy rivulets from the deep wounds on her throat. Mitchell covered his mouth as he took in the entire scene; there was Peter with blood on his mouth, but not enough to have fed. His slimy words felt like oil dripping into Mitchell's ears, but he couldn't take his eyes off the girl – off the blood, as the thick cloying scent seemed to stick to the inside of his throat.

"So strong, aren't you, Mitchell?" taunted Peter, "The hero, saviour of animals from the big bad vampires." He snorted, but there was no reaction to his words. The bottle of milk landed on the floor, just laying in the dirt where it had fallen, and the greasy laughter caused Mitchell to shudder, trying to back away, bumping softly against the brick behind him. "Come on, Mitchell... she's only going to die anyway." Peter leant toward the girl, running his fingers over her neck and removing them, the sticky blood hanging from them in a few long drops. He moved closer to Mitchell, holding them up to his face, and the power of the smell tripled. He could make out every strand of flavour, the slightly syrupy scent, along with the warm salty texture – he had to break out of this mind pattern. He had to. Peter was laughing again but now he was by the girl, hands reaching out for her, his body screaming and burning to feed, to break, to do what was right and natural and perfect and-

Mitchell pulled away and smacked himself into the wall, turning and running, hearing Peter's mocking call behind him, "Run rabbit, run rabbit, run run run... farmer's got his big bad guuuun!" the singsong voice echoed in his ears as he forced the door open, slamming it shut behind him and sliding to the floor, trembling with self hate, realising there was still blood on his fingers as he managed to drag himself to his feet. He didn't hear Annie approach; her words were loud, so loud, and he reacted without thinking, the vampire taking over as he whirled-


	9. CHAPTER NINE: Annie

**CHAPTER NINE: Annie**

She'd had no need to worry when he'd come in, but as she heard the door slam and Mitchell's uneven breathing, Annie's mind flickered back to the ginger vampire and worry overtook her senses. She'd popped to appear next to Mitchell, who was stood with his head bent, shaking – "Mitchell?" had been all she'd said, but his reaction had been the most terrifying thing. There came a snarl from deep in his throat and he whirled, fangs extended, eyes black, and had backed away from her quickly. She barely even recognised him stumbling and launching himself into the lounge, sitting unsteadily on the sofa, as she backed quickly into a corner, sliding down the wall onto the floor. That wasn't right. What the hell had happened to him?

After a few long minutes she got herself to move over to the doorway, "Mitchell?" she whispered gently, and he looked up at her. She could see the pain in his eyes, the shame, and he looked away from her, "Don't." He murmured, "I'm sorry, Annie..." she could see his hand moving up to wipe his eyes, and she saw the blood on his fingertips. Her eyes widened and shock rocked through her, "You didn't, Mitchell? Please tell me you didn't.." he was shaking his head, slowly, and she moved closer, reaching out to gently lay a hand on his shoulder as he turned to look into her face, "Peter. Her face..." he groaned, "He ripped her neck open, the blood ... everywhere..." he groaned again and trembled. Annie felt a surge of pity for him.

She let her hand slip from his shoulder and looked into his face, cupping his chin with her hand, turning him so she could look into his eyes properly. "You did the right thing." She said gently, and tugged him into a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her tiny, cold body, holding her close as he shook with the force of sobs held in. Annie couldn't believe that had happened, though; "Why would he do that, Mitchell? Why?" she leant back as he did, looking into her face, and then looked away, biting his lip. She thought his hesitation was because he didn't trust her, so she took his gloved hands, "Please, Mitchell." She encouraged softly, and smiled as he nodded slowly. He spoke softly, slowly, measuring each word. "Peter is ... an envoy. He comes from the elders – they're a group of old vampires, leaders of a kind. They make sure vampires don't do anything stupid." He leant back but she stayed on the edge of the sofa, holding a hand in her lap, "They know I'm dry, and they think... they think it's wrong."

Annie felt her face pulling into a frown. "Why would they think that? Surely you're less likely to give the secret away if you're not feeding?" Mitchell was shaking his head slowly at her words, "They think I'm more likely to snap from the pressure. Hurt a lot of people... at once. Cause problems." He bit his lip and Annie's mind was whirling, thinking suddenly, how many accidents were truly the work of vampires? How many mass murderers were actually innocent, but it had been covered up by this corporation? She realised Mitchell was staring at her with worried eyes, so she nodded slowly, "They're trying to make you feed ... like a normal vampire?" she asked, and he nodded again, removing his hand from hers and rubbing it over his face. "Pretty much, yeah."

Annie couldn't believe this. It seemed completely insane to her, but then again, half of what Mitchell did didn't make sense to her. He was a vampire, far less human than George or even her, but thinking like that frightened the ghost. She tried to push the thoughts away, and smiled tightly at Mitchell. "I'd ask if you want a cup of tea, but..." she trailed off. "Shall I just... y'know, pop there and pop back? No one can see me, they wouldn't believe a disappearing bottle of milk." Mitchell was looking at her again, caught up in his morals against stealing and the fight about going out again. He bit his lip then looked away, murmuring a "fine." He heard the faint pop as she disappeared, and laid back into the sofa, covering his eyes with an arm. He was more shaken than he wanted to admit... in fact, he was scared.

**Authors Note: The play starts on Wednesday. I'm ill and this is going to be an exhausting week. I'm having trouble getting up the will power to even get out of bed every day, so updates will come, but no promises when. Don't lose interest though! I still love all my reviewers and followers **** 3 **


	10. CHAPTER TEN: Nina

**CHAPTER TEN: Nina**

The phone rang early on their fourth morning there; George was in the shower so she scooped the mobile up, putting it to her ear and pinning it on her shoulder as she brushed her hair. "Yullo?" she murmured, and Annie's voice reached her, crackly and a little white noise-y. That was normal for any phone call the ghost made, so it didn't worry her unduly. "Nina..." it was the undercurrent of fear in the forced-normal voice that concerned her the most and she put down her brush, putting the phone properly against her face. "What is it, Annie? What's wrong?" she asked, her voice a low, concerned murmur now. The long pause stretched on and she could see Annie in her mind, trying to get the words out. There was almost an entire minute and then...

"It's Mitchell." Nina felt a bolt of fear rock through her and sat down quickly on the bed, staring into the mirror on the opposite wall. "What about Mitchell? What happened?" she asked, low and urgent, not wanting George to overhear the name of his friend. Nina listened in silence as Annie explained in a rush everything that had happened and her worries about Mitchell, not fear that he'd lose control but fear that his nightmares might return. Nina knew about these nightmares. After they had lost Annie, he had gone through more than a month where every night he would wake screaming, sleeping for just a few hours and then spending the rest of the night pacing downstairs. It was horrible to watch, to think about, the haunted eyes so badly shadowed from lack of sleep.

Nina shook off the thought. She did not want to pity the vampire; she had tried to avoid mentioning to Annie about those nights, but they had been mentioned at times. Even now some nights he would wake and they would hear him padding about restlessly, Annie murmuring to calm him down. It was clear to her the vampire was tortured by his past, by what he had done, but Nina believed thoroughly that there was something else to him, that the torture was laced with the shame that he still wanted to do it all. He had been a friend but she didn't trust him, and she felt pity for Annie, who clearly cared deeply for the messed up bloodsucker. The ghost trailed off and Nina's thoughts sharpened.

"He's getting up." Annie murmured, "I'll call you later if anything else happens." The phone went dead and Nina stared at it, wondering. She had spotted the vampire following them the other day, but thought nothing of it. Now she began to wonder. If they were tracking Mitchell... her hand rested on her stomach and she exhaled sharply, trying to convince herself it was alright, it was fine. George would protect her. They were only here two more days, then heading back home. As she put the phone down, she saw him come out the bathroom and smiled at him. She wouldn't tell him. Not yet.

**Author's Note: Short chapter, sorry. I'm still ill. The performances all went very well, hoping for a high grade. I've got a week off but I'm ill and I've got to write up a LOT of work, so I don't know if we'll have updates. Check out my one-shot Monster I wrote at 4am! **


	11. CHAPTER ELEVEN: Mitchell

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: Mitchell**

He hadn't left the house following Peter's attack. He paced restlessly in the kitchen, ignoring Annie's eyes fixed on him; he spent most of the night sitting in his room, and he knew she was wanting desperately to come up and comfort him, but whenever she spoke to him he seemed to disconnect. When Mitchell finally went downstairs he didn't notice her put the phone down, dancing over to him with a warm cup of tea which she shoved into his hands. "Morning." He registered the concern in her voice and offered her a slight smile, a murmur that could pass as a thank-you for the drink, which he sipped. The sofa looked unpleasant after laying staring at a ceiling most of the night; the few dreams he had had were blurry figures and shapes, a relic of the memories from his turning.

He could see her watching him as he stared out the window, in the bright sunlight. He had found the longer he went without feeding, the less effect the sunlight had on him. Glad for this, he turned and walked over to the door, picking up his coat, almost jumping when Annie popped into existence next to him. "Where're you going?" her voice was so soft and worried he almost paused, almost stopped his plan. No, he wouldn't stop; he had to do this. His eyes flickered to her and he gave her no calming smile – just a harsh word. "Out." He tugged the jacket on as he stepped into the air, striding off, knowing Annie would shut the door behind him.

He didn't know why he was wandering now; it was stupid, he knew it, and he didn't want to have to face something like that again. Lighting a cigarette he paused for a moment, drawing a deep nicotine breath before crossing the road. He enjoyed this little addiction, knowing that he wasn't in danger of any of the human maladies from it; it also seemed to be easier to cope with, for him. Maybe being vampiric, having to battle a constant blood craving, made the nicotine seem much easier in comparison. It wasn't really morning now; it was almost midday. The streets were as busy as they would get in this place. Walking down the hill he started heading toward the town, not knowing why his feet turned him in that direction. Mitchell was fully aware what he was doing was stupid, that he hadn't eaten anything this morning, so being around humans would give him the full force of his instincts clawing at him. He hesitated…

Two steps back and he turned around, listening to his brain for once. Cigarette still in gloved hand he headed back up the hill, feeling no strain on his legs, walking past the house and up toward the top of the street. There was a park on the crest of the hill. In summer, kids would spend their entire time rolling down the hill on skateboards or go carts or bicycles, and he'd have to endure all the bleeding and the crying and – he shook those thoughts off. For all he knew there were no kids around here anyway. Wishful thinking. He sunk down into the bench, stubbing out his cigarette and exhaling a last long puff of smoke. Putting his head into his hands, Mitchell pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes until stars danced in front of them. He couldn't face going back. Not with Annie there. Not now. Standing again he looked toward the town…

"Right." He told himself softly, "Right. Going down there, buy a sandwich or something. Prove I can do this." Taking determined steps, Mitchell headed into the town. There weren't too many people about and he began to relax; focused, he was sure nothing could dissuade him. He wasn't going to break. He was strong. With a cup of coffee in one hand and a hot sausage roll in the other he sat on a bench, looking out over the water, not sure why he was proud right now. It was crazy, really; he'd have to do this his entire life. No point in the pride. Then as he dusted himself off, draining the last caffeine-rich dregs, he noticed someone he'd hoped not to see again for … well, someone he'd not hoped to see at all, sitting on the beach and staring directly at him. "Heipher." He muttered, and clenched his jaw.

**Author's Note: I know I know, not enough action. Still ill, still doing work. I don't know if I'm going to lose readers because I'm still writing as if it's around ep 2 series 3, but… :/**

**Semi spoiler alert:**

**MITCHELL NOOOOOOOOOOO. ;_;**


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